


friendly gossip

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), SM Entertainment | SMTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In all honesty, she should have never bought a white couch. Or listed to Joy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	friendly gossip

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'neighbors AU prompt meme', which is amazing and stuff. The prompt had to do with faulty plumbing and someone asked for more Seulgi + JB. So here we are.

In all honesty, she should have never bought a white couch. Or listed to Joy. 

"It's going to look really, really pretty," she had said, using the very same voice she had when they were going out for bridesmaid dresses and _somehow_ orange was brought up as her color.

And sure, right, it is pretty. When the light hits a certain way and she can ignore the gathering dust on her coffee table, it does make the room seem a light brighter, a little more adult. Of course, there was that time she let Youngji near her white couch with really, really red wine and it took a little voodoo, an astronomically expensive cleaners, and a week of apologies from her best friend for Seulgi to re-zen herself with the white couch in her living room.

But. Then. _This_.

"I --" she pauses on the phone, adjusting the umbrella. "I called my dad and asked if I should visit my ancestors, you know. In case this is the beginning of the end, or something. Or they're trying to smite me."

Youngji laughs on the other line. There's a rustle of keys and paper. "What happened?" she asks, and Seulgi looks up to the ceiling, biting her lip hard. "I thought you'd still be at the hospital seeing patients."

"I was," Seulgi starts. She squints. Then stops too.

Her eyes are glued to the ceiling now. She talks herself away from calling what she sees a hallucination for at least the third time. What started as four, small and separate leaks from her ceiling has now spread into an exorcist-like leak that is now coming out of the fan over her coffee table. Not to mention -- and this, she swears, is the best part -- the inch of water that she walked into earlier is now over her ankles and sinking into her jeans and rainboots.

"The old lady across the hall called," she says slowly. This has to be some kind of delayed reaction, she tells herself. "And she never calls, unless she thinks the building is possessed by her dead husband again. So I thought it was a little weird."

Youngji snorts. "She has your number?"

"I've been privy to her ER visits," she defends herself. "Anyways -- she said that water was coming out of my door. My front door. Like enough to be concerning."

"Is it the dishwasher again?"

There's a crack in Seulgi's voice. "Not... exactly." She shuffles forward. Her boots make small, splashing sounds. "More like someone upstairs is either dead, broke something, or both. _And_ is ruining everything I ever owned."

Youngji pauses. "I'll be over as soon as I can," she says.

They hang up just as water _bursts_ through her ceiling fan and one of the blades snaps, impaling itself onto her coffee table. Another really expensive purchase, of course, as suggested by Joy. Oh god.

"I can't even deal with this," she breathes, turning and splashing her way back to the front door. She practically rips it open, stepping into the hallway.

There's a small crowd. It's mostly a group of sympathetic older women who look at her like they get it, that she's one of them, all of which Seulgi can't handle because it's like a weekly reminder that they try and marry her off to at least one of their sons. Instead of waiting for the elevator and her landlord, who said he would be at the building an hour ago, she finds the stairs and heads up the two flights to next floor.

It's easy to find the apartment above her. She follows the weird, almost obvious noises of cursing and tools dropping to a door at the end of the hall, wide open. She spots the plumber, who is more than just flustered; he is yelling into a phone, snapping curses away at someone else on the other line.

There is another man standing off the side too, scrolling with bored distaste through his phone. It takes a minute for her to spot him, another split second for her to recognize him, and three more to put together that she is living underneath the actor Im Jaebum and he's responsible for the insanity that is currently happening in her apartment. Of _course_.

"Hey," she says, and she's still holding on tightly to her umbrella. Her voice is trembling. He doesn't look up from his phone. "Hey," she tries again and even the plumber looks up at her, mid-curse because let's face it, she is the crazy lady in the middle of the hallway with an umbrella opened and she's actually wet.

Seulgi takes a deep breath.

" _Yah_ ," she snaps, then snarls, and her eyes are narrowed when he finally looks up. Her hand is quicker than her brain, however, and she snatches his phone out of his hands and throws it against the wall. It falls into pieces against the floor.

He blinks, his hand still cocked as if he were holding his phone. She breathes again.

"The very least you could do," she tells him, "is pay attention to the woman whose apartment you have basically flooded and ruined and made _completely_ unlivable for the next couple of months!"

Seulgi turns and marches away, back to the door that leads to the stairs.

This is how they meet.

 

 

 

 

 

What will forever be referred to as That Time Seulgi's Apartment Became the Victim of a Kitchen Accident is barely a week old when he comes downstairs, in the middle of her damage appraisal with the landlord and two insurance companies. She is clutching her phone like a lifeline because what else is she supposed to do, between being on call for patients, sleeping in her office, and trying to figure out if the white couch was ultimately some kind of terrible omen in her life anyway.

"Hey," he greets, and everybody stops talking, Seulgi even glancing up from where she stands by her own kitchen counter. That was really pretty. And housed her mail.

Her eyes narrow. Her arms cross against her chest. He has a new phone.

"Look," he says to her landlord, then both guys from the insurance companies, and finally her, even pointedly looking at her. "I'll pay for the damages," he says. He runs a hand through his hair, then smiles sheepishly. "It's my mess."

It's bizarre how quickly things wrap up after that, from her insurance guy saying, "we'll call you with the details!" and their landlord, shaking both their hands with a: "glad this could be resolved, I was _so_ worried!" 

She feels exhausted when they all leave, already resigned to living at her office for another week. She's still in her hospital scrubs too and she can't bear to think about digging into her closet to see what's salvageable either.

Jaebum clears his throat. She looks up.

"So."

"I'm not apologizing about your phone," she says immediately. She rubs the back of her neck, yawning.

"I don't expect you to," he says dryly. "It's understandable, considering ..."

"... you blew up a pipe in your kitchen and now I can't even sleep in my own place?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Well, there's that."

It's weird and completely confusing that he's standing in front of her, that this is some kind of reality that she's being forced to accept because it did _happen_ and there's no rational explanation to subscribe to otherwise. She wants to tell him that Youngji came over for hours, trying to help her salvage what she could, while looking at her own pipes. My best friend can fix anything, she wants to bite. But when the second blade, still housed in the center of her coffee table with the first, fell down, the two women just left.

"Look," Seulgi sighs, rubbing her eyes. "What's done is done -- I appreciate you trying to help. But, like ... I have a lot of work to do and I don't have time to sort through any of this or, well, the willpower to tell you how much of my stuff you ruined. And it's really, really weird that I watch you on television too."

He laughs and the sound is a little shy, even more unexpected because she doesn't know him and it's confusing, trying to deal with the fact that he's right in front of her.

"I have a proposal," he tells her. Jaebum steps forward, leaning over her. He's even more handsome in person; she's always had a slight crush on him, less having to do with the bad boy persona he has made a name on, but more to do with the fact that he may or may not be interesting. Plumbing may have killed that though. "You should stay with me," he continues hesitantly. "I have a guest room. That way you're not homeless ... and I seem like less of a dick?"

Maybe it's because she's tired -- actually, she's exhausted but that's beside the point. She looks at him, then looks at the bag at her feet that has a laptop, her keys, a few files, and a sweatshirt that she forgot to return to Seungwan back in university, but whatever, right?

"Sure," she says, sighing. Then she's serious. "But I have weirder hours that you. And sometimes I forget to change at the hospital, so there's guts and blood all over my scrubs too." Seulgi is being a little dramatic, but it's still partially true. "And I like to cook."

Jaebum smiles at her. It's unsettling because she can't pinpoint it to any moment, but it's small, warm, and weighs a little on her.

This isn't television, of course.

 

 

 

 

 

"So." Youngji is standing next to her, her leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her expression is nothing short of amusement. "This is," she starts, then stops. She turns to meet her gaze. "Are you sure he's not some sort of vampire or anything?"

Seulgi can only laugh.

Her new, now temporary, sort-of home is a huge apartment with muted walls and dark, leather furniture that screams _bachelor_ without very little effort. There are pieces of her here and there; it's weird, but her mail has found its way to the kitchen table, she has smoothies in the fridge, and the pair of sneakers and heeled boots that she tends to favor live in the front of the apartment like they've been there forever anyway.

"I don't know," she says honestly, heading to the kitchen to make some tea. "I don't really see him. He ate the dinner I left out for him the other day."

Youngji blinks. Then she laughs.

"Shut up," she mutters, biting the inside of her cheek. Her best friend laughs harder and circles the kitchen to help her with the tea. Youngji is still wearing a badge around her neck. "This is weird enough," she insists.

There was that time that he wasn't home and she did search for his awards, or whatever. It's like she can't pass a magazine or billboard without seeing him, eat french fries or stupid, stupid frozen pizza because she's exhausted, having a bad day, and oh look, Im Jaebum _loves_ these french fries.

Youngji rests her chin in her hand, leaning against the counter and watching her.

"Do you guys talk?"

"No," Seulgi mutters, looking away as Youngji studies her. "We don't see each other -- I told you."

Her best friend laughs softly. "But you want to talk to him."

"I don't do well with weird silences," she admits. "And it feels a little like I'm mooching, I guess."

There is truth in that. She doesn't have time to think about it. The front door opens and there's laughter, the sound of feet shuffling in. Youngji raises an eyebrow next to her and suddenly, a mess of guys tumble forward and are staring at them like they are not supposed to be there.

She meets Jaebum's gaze last. Youngji elbows her side.

"Did she call the police on you?" someone says and Seulgi snorts. 

"No," Jaebum says, looking at Youngji. The other woman remains impassive and amused, ignoring the comments from the small group.

"I'm the best friend," she greets. Seulgi's gaze follows Youngji as she moves to offer her hand in greeting. "And you're the guy that nearly made her homeless."

" _Youngji-ah_ ," Seulgi hisses.

She shrugs.

"Yeah," Jaebum murmurs. "We're figuring that out, I guess."

They grasp hands, greeting each other in a weird, formal, semi-formal way. Youngji is small, but she's fast; Seulgi has seen her when she's had to serious and doesn't like to think of her best friend other than the bright, warm person that she's been with her since she can remember.

It's a funny piece to this, she thinks. There are snippets of her life that just don't fit into his. There's a reality, harsh and unforgiving, that she has had to accept and embrace regardless of how she feels.

One of the guys steps in next to Jaebum, offering his hand too. "Jackson," he says, grinning. "You're really pretty."

Youngji blinks. Seulgi snorts. 

"She has a really great shot," she remarks, amused when Jackson's face only colors with more interest.

Knots start small after all.

 

 

 

 

 

There are good days and bad days. It's a mantra that can be applied to just about anything. There are good days and bad days; the problem is when they start to blend into the rest of your life.

It's a little after three when the call comes in, and she's standing at the nurses' desk, bleary-eyed with a cup of coffee, a patient's file, and listening to a story about someone's daughter, who of course is at the top of the class this year, and maybe, just maybe she'll go to school overseas and make her family proud.

"There's been a major accident," someone says. "Victims are on the way."

Seulgi does what she usually does: finishes her coffee, pulls her hair back into a messy ponytail, and says to the nurse in charge of filing that she'll be back, of course, to look on her new patient. She doesn't notice the news over her head; she passes two televisions and there are words tossed around like _minor injuries_ and of course, weather and _drunk driving_. These are things that she feels so, incredibly numb to.

But it's like this:

By the time the ambulance arrives, the medics rip the doors open, she's already standing on the ledge of the truck, her hands moving to the little girl's chest and barking orders around to the people around her. There are other doctors, of course, and her interns, half-awed and confused and concerned with what to do. Her hands greet the blood first and it's a feeling that's always strange, horribly familiar. Warm at the tips of her fingers. It squeezes in between them too, licking at her palms.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Blinking, Seulgi looks up and meets Jaebum's gaze. He's covered in blood and dirt too, his clothes sticking to his body. She assesses him for any noticeable injuries, shoving the panic deep down and inside of her, hoping that it'll wait until later, much later to come out. It takes her a minute to remember that it's been raining for most of the day.

"You're next," is all she can say, gently prying his hands away from the little girl. Her smile isn't believable; she does the best she can to be reassuring. "Go sit outside and I'll be out to see you --"

She doesn't finish, returning to attend to the girl. Jaebum is pushed back, lingering as the stretch, the medics, and Seulgi rush the girl into the nearest, open operating room.

Rain always means it's going to be a long night.

 

 

 

Seulgi finds him an hour or two later, in the hallway. He's half-bent, over his knees. He's still dirty, still tired, and looks frozen in the very same expression that she saw him when he arrived with the little girl early: panicked, desperate, and confused.

She approaches him quietly, med kit in hand, moving to sit on the floor between his legs and in front of him. She gently takes his hands, unfolding them to inspect any cuts or injuries that she may have to deal with first.

"She's going to be okay," she says. His fingers twitch. She listens to him exhale and his hands relax in hers. "It's going to be a tough recovery," she cautions, honest. "But whatever you did, you were there in time."

Seulgi got most of the story from the paramedics, who told her that he was crazy enough to run to the car, drag the little girl out and be mindful of irritating her already terrifying injuries. His rescue is already on the news; some fan posted the video.

"How do you do this?" he asks her, voice hushing into some kind of whisper.

She finishes with hands, shifting forward even further on her legs. He's bent, but too tall. She shifts onto her knees, cradling his face between her hands.

"There's not an answer that I can give that won't sound cheesy or ... whatever." She answers honestly. "Some days, it's because I love helping people. Some days, it's because I'm really good at it. Other days, the ones that are the worst, I'm wondering why I decided to be a doctor in the first place."

Seulgi breathes, relieved that he doesn't need any stitches, just a shower and probably a couple of days off. 

"Why are you an actor?" she asks. She smoothes some of his hair back, cleaning bits of gravel from a small cut.

Jaebum doesn't answer. She watches and learns the changes in his face this way. His mouth is slight. His gaze lowers and she watches the way his lashes flutter as his eyes close. She gets it; there is something impossibly romantic about him. But she knows and can reconcile that she is still sitting in front of a real human being, that he is reaching for her hands, that he is pulling them away from his face to hold onto them too. Their fingers lace like lifelines and she exhales, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

He swallows then. 

"To be good at something," he says.

 

 

 

 

 

When his drama ends, he is home a lot more. She starts to notice when dinner is waiting for her, then she grabs a sweatshirt of his and doesn't give it back, and when they have an actual, boring conversation about the weather and the apartment appraisal. Like normal human beings.

Tonight she has the night off. It's hot and it's too summer; they've opened all the windows and she's stretched out, her legs draped over his lap because she didn't want to move and he wanted to sit, so.

"I don't get baseball," she says as he settles on turning the television, picking a game. "I feel like it's always to watch better live."

"True," he answers. "But I want something mindless."

Seulgi laughs. "No dramas?"

Jaebum flushes. "I hate watching myself," he mutters. "It's pretty weird."

They sit together like this. Occasionally, one of them brings up dinner and takeout and pizza which, Seulgi confesses, she hates too because if she's going to eat really crappy food, it's going to be hot dogs and macaroni and cheese. She talks to him like they've been talking for forever and it feels a little more than nice.

Somewhere between being hungry and sleepy, his fingers find their way underneath the fabric of her leggings, just at her ankles, and start to trace slow, lazy shapes. She makes a soft sound, watching him from underneath her lashes. They're comfortable. She's comfortable. It's no longer weird -- okay, maybe it's a little weird that they've been inserted into each other's lives this way, without any warning.

After awhile, she falls asleep, hushed by his fingers and the heat that crawls in from the open windows. He's humming too. It's low. It takes her a moment to realize. Then she remembers that he was a singer too, once upon at time. He had a single and she was still in school, moving into her new, tiny apartment with just boxes and Youngji and her dad. It was summer than too. She loves summer, she thinks. Not best season. But she loves it enough. It feels new like this. It feels settled.

Seulgi thinks this feels like falling in love.

 

 

 

 

 

The day they tell her she can move back into her apartment, Seungwan calls and tells her that she's pregnant.

"Weird, right?" She says cheerfully, brightly. She and Joohyeon have been trying for a year. "We were just talking about it last night, how we were going to make the worst parents ever."

"That's dramatic," Seulgi answers, smiling anyway. She gets a weird, nervous pang deep in her belly and makes a promise to go and see her two friends for dinner to celebrate at some point. Someone in their group of friends have to become parents anyway, you know?

She has the day off anyway and has yet to go upstairs to look at her place, embrace reality, and just get ready to move on with things going back to normal. Jaebum should be back soon; he has a small schedule today before leaving for China. It feels like a goodbye and she's not really good at any of this, if she's honest.

This is why she hates having days off.

She busies herself still, tentatively packing the things in the guest room and then moving into the kitchen, making some kind of meal. She almost gives up halfway because she doesn't even really know if he's going to be hungry or wanting to eat or see her at all -- you're insane, she tells herself.

Jaebum shows up midway through her starting on an onion.

"You're crying," he greets and no, no she's not. She puts the knife down, her fingers pressing against the corner of her eyes. "You are," he says again, amused.

"I'm chopping an on-ion," she sniffs. She sends him a glare as he steps around the counter. He tosses his keys somewhere and takes one of her hands. "I hate vegetables," she says. "They're so unassuming."

"You're ridiculous," he says gently.

His hands cup her face before she even registers what's going on. He strokes her jaw and leans in, his mouth brushing over her forehead. It's timed when she breathes and her fingers are curling into his shirt without her even realizing.

Then he slides an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"You don't have to go."

He says it without any sort of hesitation. She admires him a lot for that. She tries to reason herself into some kind of response, but the knots in her stomach are starting to unravel and she's blushing, for sure, as his fingers start to bury themselves into her hair as well.

"You got the call," she mumbles.

"Yeah." He pauses. "You don't have to go."

Her head tilts. "It's a little unorthodox." Jaebum laughs and she feels her face grow warmer. "Seriously," she argues. "We haven't even had a date."

"Not a traditional one," he argues and she stares at him with something akin to awe and delight.

He's right, of course. They've shared the same space for weeks. There's more than enough little things; falling asleep on the couch with him, arguing over dinner, the weather, his taste in music and god, Seulgi-ah put on a damn sweatshirt, all the while giving her the one off of his back. There's the practical side of her too. She's not afraid of what comes with him, between the publicity and the fans. She might be a little more afraid of what he worries about coming with him.

"Do you even want me here?" she asks.

Her voice is softer than she means it to be. This is the most vulnerable she's let him see her, she thinks. It unnerves her.

"It's nothing," he says, and it's not dismissive. It seems like he wants to say a little more. His voice feels uneven and he leans over her, his hands back to rest against her cheeks.

"That's not an answer," she says, a little hoarsely. Her teeth bite at her lip.

He says, "But you know it anyway."

When he kisses her, it's overwhelming. His mouth is sharp and selfish and something bubbles over in her, feverish enough to make her moan into his mouth. His arm locks around her waist and he pulls her forward, turning and pushing them against the kitchen sink.

She bites back and turns a fist into his hair, tugging, half-dizzy with confusion and excitement and need that she can barely put herself back together and breathe.

They never make dinner that night.

It's coffee and cold fried chicken in the morning though, sitting on the balcony with her feet in socks and tucked under his leg and his hand pulling at a couple of loose strands of her hair.

 

 

 

 

 

At the baby shower for Seungwan and Joohyun, one of their friends brings up a magazine article that declares IM JAEBUM CONFESSES TO HAVING A GIRLFRIEND/FANS CRUSHED BUT SEND WELL WISHES TO THE COUPLE and it's, like, halfway embarrassing because Youngji is the only one that really knows the story behind everything.

"I'm sure she's, like, a total bitch," the woman goes on, saying. Next to Seulgi, Youngji snorts and hides her amusement in her champagne glass.

"I am," Seulgi says. Everyone in the party freezes and stops, just as she shrugs. She doesn't hide and meets the other woman's gaze, unwavering. "But only when I'm hungry," she adds. Then, as an afterthought: "And the plumbing in my apartment goes to shit."

Her face is red through the entire exchange, Youngji will take a week to stop laughing, and later, when she tells Jaebum, he'll only smile and shrug. 

For once, everything you read is true.


End file.
